


Do You Think We Could Have Been Friends, Too?

by cactusprisms



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Uhhhh major fuckery of the timeline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:42:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24288343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cactusprisms/pseuds/cactusprisms
Summary: A twist in time, a slight shift in who-goes-where in a universe. The timeline is a fragile thing, left to the whims of individual's choices.Prince Zuko is the son of Fire Lord Ozai, yes, He is still burnt and cast away, but the timing of this is the important part.
Relationships: Aang & Zuko (Avatar), Katara & Sokka (Avatar), Katara & Zuko (Avatar), Sokka & Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 84
Kudos: 462





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I am going to preemptively apologize for the absurd lack of posting schedule, my memory is about as reliable as a burnt chicken nugget, both in the usefulness department, and the taste department. I picked up this concept from MuffinLance because it was an ask, and she didn't wish to do it, and I thought it was a swell idea. It took me longer than I thought it wold to even get a start out. so. yeah.

It starts simply, insignificant, as most things do. A shift in time, a shuffled line of succession. A father in one timeline, becoming the son. The big things stay the same, a boy running from home, a scarred prince, a fiery atrocity. But the timing? The timing is the important part. 

It starts, and ends, the same as the story we know; with a boy, and a storm, and an oncoming war. A power hungry ruler that will give birth to a line of dragon slayers, and slay the people of the breeze. 

It starts with a boy. It starts with a storm. It starts with the fire of a heart turning from loyalty to rebellion, in the desperate hope that someone can be saved from the fire-hunger of his father’s ambition. Because his father hungers to destroy, hungers to hurt, hungers for power, more than anything else.

The bandaged burn on his left eye is proof of this.

The boy was not born in a war, and neither was his father. The dragons still live in great numbers. The air nomads are still breathing.   
They won’t stay that way, if his father does as he wishes. If the boy cannot get there in time.

Hence, climbing a mountain, in the midst of a storm, with one good eye, as one does, if the one is the 14 year old prince of fire, and fueled by desperation. It’s a very good fuel, desperation, right up there with adrenaline. The two go hand in hand, practically brothers, at the very least, brothers in arms. They course up the spine, leaving jitters in their wake, and the recipient of the feelings can either clutch to steadiness with determination, or wait them out, until the shivers fade.

The boy cannot afford to wait, and as such, clings grimly to the cliffside, fingers clenched on slick, rain soaked rock as the wind slices through his shirt like an angry eagle-shrike’s claws. 

The rain hammers down on his head, sapping warmth from his flesh. The wind buffets and tears at him, pitching debris and rocks, hoping to pull him to instability, to drag him to his death waiting on the island far below. 

The boy has a deadline, and had he been able to wait out the storm, he would have. There is an armada on the way, a comet preparing to streak across the sky, setting petrol to the flames of millions of souls, some of which come to destroy the peace of the people in the temple above.

He claws his way to the staircase of smooth hewn stone, and sighs in relief, shivering, and ascends the easier path through the elements. He approaches the main chamber of the temple, and knocks as loudly as he can, cringing at the interruption to the quiet, devoid of humanity. 

He needs to warn them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Absurdly sporadic updates? How about same day?

“Hey Zuko! You okay?” Aang is far too cheerful for the kind of headache Zuko has right now. The sunshine is welcome, yes, but also hurts his eye something fierce. The other is still covered, because infection at this point would suck.

Zuko makes a grunting noise that he hopes conveys his feelings of just how much he appreciates being woken up with what feels like a hangover. Probably. It was how Cook always described hangovers, when he asked. Aang, the relentlessly cheerful idiot, just laughs, and goes to shout at something or someone over the side of Appa’s saddle. Zuko can hear it, but he doesn’t want to think much right now, so he doesn’t really parse what’s being said, until someone else, a girl, maybe, slightly out of hearing range, says something back.

Zuko bolts upright, wincing at the light, and takes in the surroundings. Blue ice, arctic sea. It’s a wonder he’s not cold yet, “Aang, where are we? What happened while I was asleep?”

Aang, the brat, why are they friends, again? grins sheepishly, scrubbing the back of his head, “uhm, we may have run into a storm?”

Zuko shoots him the look that that statement-question deserves, truly, and looks over the side at their company, to see two water tribesmen, a girl and a boy, who are probably siblings, based on their arguing. “We ran into a storm? Why are we in an iceberg?”

Aang seems to deflate, “There was a really big wave that was going to go over us, and I, uh,” he bites his lip, “I went into the avatar state.”

Zuko squints, “you’re the avatar.”

Aang nods.

“And you ran away because…?”

“They were going to take me away from Gyatso,” Aang says in a rush, “speed up my training. I didn’t want to leave.”

Zuko takes a deep breath, and scratches at his bandages idly, “you didn’t want to leave, so you left,” he mutters, “You’re 12.”

Aang looks confused, “yeah?”

“Traditionally, the Avatar isn’t taken away to train until they’re 16, so why were they going to take you away at 12? Did they know?”

Aang, still confused, asks, “know what?”

Zuko shakes his head, as the water tribe boy shouts, “Hey! What’s going on down there?”

Zuko snorts, “Conversation.” the word echoes up the sides of the Iceberg.

“Who are you?” the boy shouts again.

Aang, returned to his cheerful state, grins, and leaps out of the bowl. The iceberg, Zuko notes, is oddly round and lined, like a frozen airball. That was probably what made it, he thinks. Appa lurches, groaning, and Zuko latches on to the side of the saddle as the bison lifts himself out. The sun is brighter up here.

The water tribe children, though it’s not like he can say anything about them being children, the girl is probably his age, and the boy older, gape. Zuko waves pleasantly, a light smile on his face. It wouldn’t do to seem intimidating. For all these people know, Aang and Zuko are spirits.

Though given recent information, that’s half right, Aang.

Appa stops, and Zuko climbs down his front shoulder, patting the furry beast on the cheek. The bison reminds him oddly of Fang, in a way, has since he met him, if a bit gentler. He approaches the… siblings? Maybe? “Hello, my name’s Zuko. Has Aang introduced himself?”

“Uh,” the boy squints at him suspiciously, “yeah, he has.”

Zuko waits for one of them to introduce themself. The siblings share a glance, the boy’s accusing, almost, the girl’s unreadable. At least to Zuko himself, he’s never been too good at that, courtesans are assholes.

The girl offers a hand, “I’m Katara. My brother,” she elbows the boy, “is Sokka.”

The boy yelps, and drops his hand from where it’s hovering over a boomerang, a well made one, Zuko notes idly, as he shakes the girl’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

The siblings startle as Aang drops down beside him. Zuko, far too used to this nonsense in far shorter an amount of time than he is overall comfortable with, doesn’t so much as blink. Aang grins, “We can take you back to your village, no problem!”

Zuko blinks, and looks around them, seeing no sign of a two person canoe, merely a lot of icebergs, and some floes that look waterbent, “Wait what? What happened to your canoe?”

“Sokka got us caught in a current, and we crashed into an iceberg,” Katara says blithely.

“Woah, wait, no,” Sokka says, “it wasn’t my fault!”

“Whose fault was it, then? You were steering!”

Aang and Zuko watch as the siblings bicker. Zuko clears his throat. The pair quiet down, “We can take Appa, it’s really not a problem,” Zuko says diplomatically.

“I still don’t believe he can fly,” Sokka says.

“I… he can,” Zuko says questioningly, shooting a glance at Aang.

“Sounds unlikely.”

“Sokka, shut up.”

“What, all I’m saying is that there’s no way this thing can fly.”

Zuko sighs, and climbs up after the airbender. Stood in the saddle, he leaned over the edge, “are you coming?”

“What? Oh, yeah,” Sokka studies where Zuko was, and then Appa’s leg, “how did you get up?”

Katara makes a frustrated sound, “oh for-” and clambers up the same way Zuko did, using Appa’s front leg as a step.

Sokka joins them a moment later, “I knew that.” he says, as Zuko looks at him skeptically. Katara just glares.

Aang calls back, “ready to go?”

“Hang on a second, Aang.” Zuko returns. He looks at the siblings and sits down, gripping the edge of the saddle, “I advise you sit, and hold on.”

The siblings followed suit, sitting beside him.

Aang called out, “yip yip!” and Appa leapt.

And landed with a massive splash in the water.

Zuko frowned, “Aang, is he okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine,” Aang said cheerfully, “I think he’s just tired.”

Zuko shrugged. This was fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you spot any typos or if the characterization seems off, I'm trying to make Zuko less war oriented, he's still competent, just not quite as observant. Or traumatized. Yet.

**Author's Note:**

> if you like it please leave me a comment, I crave validation.


End file.
